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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27757114">Good Times Bad Times</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathon1leg/pseuds/deathon1leg'>deathon1leg</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brief Description of Torture, Canon Compliant, Castiel and Dean Winchester Reunion in Heaven, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Castiel is Saved from the Empty (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Dean Winchester Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dean Winchester Says "I Love You", Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Episode: s15e18 Despair, Episode: s15e20 Carry On, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:29:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,007</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27757114</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathon1leg/pseuds/deathon1leg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This wasn’t Dean’s first rodeo with death, not nearly, but there was always something that saved him those other times. Some important matters required his assistance or some Big Time Celestial Being had a penchant for him. But this time, God wasn’t there to resurrect him for his little story, and Heaven was in shambles, so neither of them would, or could, give half a shit. Even Jack, who was the new God, had pledged to be hands-off. Dean knew there was probably no saving him this time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>160</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Good Times Bad Times</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>In the days of my youth<br/>I was told what it means to be a man</p><p>And now I've reached that age<br/>I've tried to do all those things the best I can</p><p>No matter how I try<br/>I find my way into the same old jam</p><p> </p><p>-Good Times Bad Times, Led Zeppelin</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So this was it.</p><p>This was how Dean Winchester died.</p><p>Today, on a boring old run-of-the-mill monster of the week hunt, by a goddamn vamp. </p><p>Of course, Dean always knew he would die on the job. Hell, he’d known from the first time he’d ever shot a real gun that this would be the way he went out, but still, something seemed so awfully untimely about it. He’d just saved the world (for like what, the third time?) you’d think he’d get more than a few days to bask in that glory. </p><p>And no, this wasn’t Dean’s first rodeo with death, not nearly, but there was always something that <em> saved </em> him those other times. Some important matters required his assistance or some Big Time Celestial Being had a penchant for him. But this time, God wasn’t there to resurrect him for his little story, and Heaven was in shambles, so neither of them would, or could, give half a shit. Even Jack, who was the new God, had pledged to be hands-off (and while Dean can kinda dig the whole nuance of that, there are just some matters that could genuinely benefit by cosmic inference, <em> ehem) </em>. Dean knew there was probably no saving him this time.</p><p>These recent few days had been the first time in years Dean felt somewhat at ease, at least in terms of the fate of the universe. He’d killed Chuck (or at least the part of him that made him God, he was just a squirrely little human now), he’d gotten himself a dog (Miracle, what a sweetheart), he’d even allowed himself to let his guard down just a bit because the world was alright, and his own kid was God now, after all, so he could take pride and have confidence in those things. Dean could take a breath now.</p><p>Or, more accurately, Dean could take half a breath. The other half was stuck in stasis. While the world was saved and all was well in the big picture, yadda yadda, all wasn’t well in <em> Dean’s </em> big picture. For Dean, there was no big picture, not without Cas. He wasn’t lying about being able to unwind a bit, release of tension was basically a given when it came to knowing Chuck wasn’t in charge of the entire universe anymore, but he was putting on more of a brave face for Sam than he actually felt. And if he were being honest, putting on a brave face for himself, to avoid how he was <em> truly </em> feeling.</p><p>Cas was Dean’s best friend. That statement had been true for somewhere around twelve years now. If it weren’t for Castiel he would still be somewhere in the pits of Hell rotting away, being tortured, or more likely, torturing. Cas not only saved his life, but he saved his soul and entire being. He picked up Dean’s pieces and put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Cas was Dean’s best friend, and whether he was more than that didn’t change one certain fact: grief was a <em> bitch </em>. So, how was Dean truly feeling?</p><p>Dean Winchester was fucking devastated.</p><p>Distraught, inconsolable, miserable, and all those other thesaurus words. Dean has emotionally repressed himself his whole life so much so that he can’t even articulately <em> think </em> about how he’s feeling, much less describe it. Not to be, well, cliche, but those cliche words hardly hit the surface of his grief, and nothing in the human language ever would. Cas is gone, <em> His Cas, </em> he’s completely utterly gone, and he did it to save <em> Dean </em>. Dean didn’t deserve anyone’s sacrifice. Cas deserved to live, fuck, he should be alive right now, it should’ve been Dean, not him.</p><p>It’d be fair to cut Dean some slack here in the knowledge that he’s not very good at describing his feelings. It <em> would </em> take a thesaurus to do it well. He’s just never been great at that sort of thing, and it’s not exactly like he was raised in an environment that was on the up-and-up about men (or boys) sharing their thoughts and feelings.</p><p>But Dean, despite his emotional intelligence being that of <em> maybe </em> a highly intelligent turkey, has gone through his fair share of physical pain in his life and can therefore semi-confidently use it as a metaphor. So if you forced him to take a stab (no pun intended) at describing how he feels he’d say: it felt as though someone skinned him alive, layer by layer to the bone while making him watch his own flesh get filleted in the process, as well as intermittently having acid poured on his raw body, gotten knives shoved under his fingernails, had his eyeballs shish-kebabed, organs eaten by rats while he’s still soberingly conscious- well, I think you get the picture at this point. Dean is not feeling so great.</p><p>Of course, loss is loss, and everyone goes through it at some point in their life. However, something Dean can confidently say most people who’ve experienced loss in their lives hasn’t gone through is having to live through one person dying more than once. Dean has grieved Cas so many times it practically feels routine, and yet it never gets easier. He would never get used to Cas being ripped away from him if it happened a thousand times over. Every single time the sorrow feels fresh and new, hitting him in all the parts of himself he tries so desperately to ignore. </p><p>He feels a little stupid to admit it, but every time Cas dies, it takes a bit of time before he remembers he could very well come back from the dead, as everyone he knows including himself has a track record of doing. It takes a bit of time to remember that, because all he can think at that moment where he’s sobbing and broken is, <em> Cas is gone Cas is gone he’s gone he’s dead Cas is dead the angel is dead Dean’s angel is dead. </em></p><p>But this time, this most recent time, when Dean remembers it’s possible that Cas could come back, the thought is immediately contradicted with <em> how? How exactly would that happen? Who would bring him back? Who CAN bring him back from The Empty? Heaven has fallen apart and they don’t want him for anything, Chuck’s not on our side, Jack has no powers, how the hell would he come back?  </em></p><p>When it hits Dean that he doesn’t have that safety net of hope to catch him this time, he knows he has nothing left.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>-   <strong>now   </strong> -</em>
</p><p> </p><p>While Dean was losing consciousness and on the brink of death, he remembered he never told Sammy what Cas said to him before he was taken by The Empty. It’s not like Dean forgot that he should tell him, not really, he was honestly more just trying to avoid it. He knew exactly how it would go. He would tell Sam, Sam would look at him with his big understanding eyes and sympathetic brow, he would give Dean a moment before staring deep into his soul and asking, “<em> Well do you? Love him back?” </em> even though deep down Dean knew his brother had likely already gathered the answer to that. And honestly okay, <em> sue him </em> , he just didn’t feel like getting his love life closely examined by his little brother, much less his prospective relationship with their mutual best friend, and <em> especially </em>much less his sexuality. But at a time like this, he couldn’t help but wonder if Sam already knew, and was just too damn considerate to ever bring it up. Goddamn his brother and his goddamn fucking compassion.</p><p>Anyway, back to the matter at hand here; Dean’s dying, and he’s fading fast. He holds Sammy close, one of the last people Dean has left, and thinks of how he’s leaving his baby brother all alone. He thinks of all the things he could’ve done in the future, all the things he should’ve done in the past, and what led him to this moment. Dean has gone up against the vilest creatures the world had to offer, he’s been to Hell, Heaven, and Purgatory. He has literally fought God and the Devil. He’s died countless times and always managed to come back. </p><p>Yet here he is, now, taking his final breaths, dying by being impaled by a giant rusty fucking nail. What a way to go, he thought. </p><p>
  <em> Cas just died to save my life, and here I am dying myself. </em>
</p><p>Everything faded to black.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Like every cliche ever, Dean sees the light.</p><p>When Dean finds himself in Heaven, he’s a bit surprised. He remembers Billie telling him and Sam they’ll be tossed into The Empty when their individual times come, but he guesses the reapers aren’t under her rule anymore, seeing as she herself is in The Empty. Dean also supposes he didn’t do anything technically Hell-worthy, though he finds that debatable, it’s not like he sold his soul <em> again </em> or anything. But, it still feels surreal to have made it upstairs. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> -   <strong>before   </strong> - </em>
</p><p> </p><p>After Cas died, Dean had done himself some good old-fashioned Thinking. Some Thinking that he now realized was long overdue, but hey, better late than never. </p><p>He began his Thinking approximately once it had hit him that 1. Cas was likely not going to come back, and 2. Holy shit Cas said he loved him. At first, Dean pointedly ignored the Thoughts that arose and chose the much easier route of drinking himself half to death. </p><p>He told himself that Cas meant it in a friendly, brotherly way. He distinctly ignored how that wouldn’t make sense, how the things Cas said about him and the fact that saying those three words to Dean was his one true happiness.</p><p>He also tried to immerse himself in their hunt to kill Chuck, and that worked to a certain extent, because he did what he’d always done: push everything deep, deep down until he couldn’t feel anything anymore. He did the job, he did it well, and he saved the damn world once again.</p><p>But once they’d taken care of Chuck he had no excuse to avoid it anymore, so begrudgingly, he did some Thinking. And boy, did he Think. </p><p>He Thought about his feelings much more than he’d have liked to, thank you very much. His feelings told him:</p><p>Holy fuck, holy fucking shit, son of a bitch, goddammit…  I’m in love with Cas.</p><p>(Dean also Thought he was stupid for taking so damn long to realize that.)</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>-   <strong>now   </strong> -</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Shortly after Dean arrives in Heaven, he shares a drink with Bobby. He finds out Cas is around here somewhere, and dammit, that makes him feel something again. He feels a warmth in his chest (even though he doesn’t technically have a chest anymore in the literal corporeal sense), he’s overcome by a sense of relief, an overpowering reassurance, and… something else. He feels hope. Maybe he’ll be able to find Cas. Maybe he’ll be able to- maybe he’ll be able to tell him.</p><p>But not right now. Not right now because he’s- he’s <em> scared </em> to see Cas again. So for now, he does what he does best and <em> avoids </em>.</p><p>He’s literally got all the time in the world and all of Heaven to explore, as well as an angel to avoid, so Dean shares another drink later, this time with Sam. It was just shortly after he took Baby for a drive that he encountered his brother on the bridge because, as Bobby said, time works differently up here.</p><p>He and Sam sat together on a bench in silence for a moment, enjoying the view of the almost-too-green trees and the birds singing in perfect harmony, chirping and looking like a splash of burnt umber paint on the royal blue sky. It probably should unsettle Dean, how utterly perfect it is up here, but somehow it doesn’t. It feels right. </p><p>Finally, Dean speaks up.</p><p>“When did you go,” He glances over at his brother nursing another shitty-but-awesome beer, “and how?”. Sam looks back at him, a content smile crossing his features. Dean doesn’t exactly know how aging works here yet, but Sam looks young like he remembers him being when he himself died. It worries him a bit, because he took solace up here knowing (hoping) his brother would get to live a long fulfilling life, even if he hadn’t.</p><p>“Eighty-six years,” Sam says, “I lived for eighty-six whole years,”. Sam’s small smile grows significantly, “and I died of old age.” Damn! Well, that’s certainly something! Clearly, his concerns were unfounded. At this point, Dean’s subtle grin had turned into full-on cheesin’, crinkles at the eyes and all. “You son of a bitch,” he chuckles, “you made it. You did the impossible. You lived to be a cranky old man as a hunter.” </p><p>“Well,” Sam started, “I retired, you know. A few years after you… died… and I settled down, with Eileen. We got ourselves a house and,” He sighs and raises his eyebrows as if he’s still in disbelief, his eyes showing he’s in a faraway world, “We made ourselves a home. A family. We even had a son.” Dean’s tearing up. God, he’s so fucking happy for him. That’s all he ever wanted for his brother, retirement and happiness, a family too if he wanted one, but he never thought Sam would actually be able to get it. It was always just a fantasy, a “what if” scenario, the sort of thing only normal people with regular lives got, not hunters, not them. But somehow, Sam got it.</p><p>“What was his name?”</p><p>And the answer makes Dean cry.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>They talked for hours. Or what Dean could only assume were hours, you know, with Heavenly time and all that. Sam told him the entire other half of his life’s story, the half Dean missed, and they also talked about life back when they were, well, both alive. Good times, bad times, you know they’ve had their share. Inevitably, they came to the topic of Cas, and also how he was apparently somewhere up here. Dean was both itching to talk about the angel and vehemently hoping to avoid that conversation altogether, because it was bound to bring up certain Thoughts and Feelings and perhaps certain Dying Love Confessions. The sort of conversation he didn’t want to have with his little brother.</p><p>Dean thought fuck it, he’s dead, he’s gotta talk about it eventually, and seeing as he didn’t do it during his actual lifetime he’ll probably spend literal eternity up here ignoring it if he doesn’t do something now.</p><p>So, Dean cleared his throat.</p><p>“You know, uh, Cas said something to me, before The Empty took him.” Sam was already looking at him with the big understanding eyes and sympathetic brow, exactly how Dean knew he would. Apparently he kept that trait throughout his eighty-six years of life. Ignore it, he told himself, ignore the puppy-dog eyes. Sam didn’t say anything, of course, the considerate bastard, he was waiting for Dean to speak. “Well uh, I suppose no one ever actually told you but… back a few years before… <em> before </em>, Cas made a deal with The Empty, to save Jack’s life.”</p><p>Dean scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, feeling the intensity of Sam’s eyes. It’s not as if Sam could know where Dean was going with this, but it somehow felt like he did. He’s probably just paranoid. “The deal was, as soon as Cas felt true, genuine happiness, he would… he would be taken, uh, by The Empty.” Oh, God. Sam’s understanding gaze. It’s piercing. He waited quietly for Dean to continue. If he had questions, he certainly didn’t ask them. Dean sort of wants him to ask them. He wants to stall. Why is this so fucking hard to talk about, he’s dead! This shouldn’t be difficult, he’s six feet under!</p><p>Dean figured he could skip past the things Cas said about him. About how caring and good he is. It’s a bit personal, anyway. He’d like to keep that for himself.</p><p>Dean looks down at his lap. He doesn’t want to look at Sam, and whether it’s because of the stare of Sammy’s eyes or the tears he feels welling up in his own isn’t important. His throat thickens and feels awkward, which is dumb in Dean’s opinion, because throats shouldn’t get thick or awkward in Heaven.</p><p>“Cas told me he loved me,” Dean waits to hear a gasp or hitch of breath from next to him, but it doesn’t come, “and then The Empty swallowed him up.”</p><p>Dean’s not looking at his lap anymore, because Sam might be able to see the tears falling onto it. He looks away, opposite Sam, out into the almost-too-green trees and the stupidly perfect sky. Damn that royal blue sky.</p><p>“Dean,” he hears from his side, but he doesn’t move. “<em> Dean,” </em> he hears again, so he looks, and he doesn’t bother wiping his tears. He’s of course then met with those big ridiculous kindhearted eyes. Sam doesn’t ask in <em> what way </em> Cas told Dean he loved him, he doesn’t ask if it was meant as brotherly, because he doesn’t need to. Somehow, he knows, and Dean knows he knows.</p><p>But then, to Dean’s genuine surprise, Sam <em> also </em> doesn’t ask <em> “Well do you? Love him back?” </em>like Dean was so convinced that he would. Instead, he says,</p><p>“Well then, let’s go find him.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Dean goes and sees Bobby again to ask if he knows where to find Cas. In response, he receives “It’s Heaven, ya idjit, just pray to the damn guy!”. But then , unexpectedly, he’s also shown a genuine smile, given a clap on the back, and another pair of mushy eyes that he was so tired of being subjected to today, but this time from someone else, who mushy eyes were much less characteristic of. Then finally, Bobby tells him, “You go get ‘im, boy. Good luck.”.</p><p>Now, praying? That’s it? That seems way too easy to Dean, as a man who’s never had anything easy ever. Bobby’s generally right about this sort of stuff, but it just seems so friggin'<em>simple </em>. However, he’s also fully ready to find a plan B, C, D, E, F, or fucking G if it means he gets to find Cas. If it means he gets to find his angel. He’s not giving up, he’s got all the time in the world to try, and his brother by his side with him.</p><p>Despite his doubts, he figures it’s worth a shot and gets to praying. Sam leaves him alone in his new Heaven house and goes to check out his own, giving him privacy “<em> just in case,”. </em>Overly optimistic bitch. It surely couldn’t be this easy, right? Still, he’ll humor Sam (and let’s be honest, himself) and take this seriously.</p><p>Before he leaves though, Sam looks at him with a weird gooey mixture of concern, hopefulness, and pride. He asks, “So, if this works? If Cas comes when you call?"</p><p>Dean paused for a moment, hesitating. “We’ll both get what we thought we couldn’t have.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>-   <strong>before   </strong> -</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Dean <em> had </em> thought about what he would do if Cas came. It was at the forefront of his mind this entire time, actually. It was like how he’d Thought before, after Cas was freshly gone and when he was still alive, except this time it was a real possibility that he’d have to confront those feelings head-on with the person he had those feelings <em> for </em> . And besides, when he was alive he hadn’t exactly <em> confronted </em> his feelings as much as acknowledged they existed and attempted to set them to the side because Cas was dead, goddammit, so it <em> didn’t matter anyway. </em>(Except it did matter. It always fucking mattered).</p><p>But now, there was a possibility he would have to <em> physically </em> confront his feelings and maybe even <em> speak </em> them (yuck), instead of just keeping them to himself. He may have talked to Sam, but Dean hadn’t said anything about his own feelings, only Cas’s, so it was significantly easier. Both the feelings he’d had since he was young, which he’d buried early, and the feelings he’d had since meeting Cas, which has been infinitely harder to push to the side, were going to have to surface.</p><p>And that scared Dean. No, it <em> terrified </em> him.</p><p>But then he imagined being able to see Cas again. To see his face, and his smile, and his stupid blue tie, and his stupid oversized trenchcoat. If he could just see the angel again, once more, what would he do?</p><p>And with that thought, Dean found himself yearning to do one specific thing.</p><p>And with that, Dean decided to say “<em> fuck you” </em> to that fear, that terror, even if the idea of saying “ <em> fuck you” </em> to his fear filled him with <em> even more </em>fear and it kinda turned itself into an endless loop of fright. Dean has dealt with stupid endless loops of fright his entire life, but this one thing he was scared of was something he had been denying himself for so long and for no good reason, and goddammit, if he was as good of a person as Cas said he was then he deserved this. Then he deserved love, and he deserved Cas.</p><p>Dean was done denying himself.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>-   <strong>now   </strong> -</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Dean knelt on the (pristinely polished) floor of his new house. He could’ve sworn he smelt Pine-sol if he sniffed hard enough. Logically, Dean knows kneeling won’t improve the chances of Cas showing up, but he also knows kneeling is like Prayer 101, and If he was gonna pray to Cas he was really gonna <em> pray </em>. Palms together, head tilted down, kneeling and all. </p><p>Well, here goes nothing.</p><p>“Now I lay me down to sleep… um, forever… I pray to Castiel to get his feathery ass dow- or uh, <em> up </em> here.”</p><p>A breath.</p><p>A beat.</p><p>The tick of his watch (why do they have watches up here, anyway?).</p><p>Dean squeezes his eyes shut even harder.</p><p>Then, the telltale sound of wings fluttering.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>-   <strong>before   </strong>-</em>
</p><p> </p><p>When Dean had done his original Thinking when he was still alive, before his other thinking about what he’d do if Cas showed up, he remembered the first time he’d had a thought about Cas that wasn’t entirely friendly.</p><p>It wasn’t long after his first encounter with the angel. Hardly much time after meeting him in that warding-coated barn, where he found out the face of the being who raised him from perdition. He thought about Cas. Then, he thought about the shape of Cas’s lips, if they were soft, or maybe rough. He thought about touching those lips, to find out. He thought about those lips on his own. He thought about them on his jaw, his neck, his-</p><p>Wait, what?</p><p>All those years ago, he thought about Cas’s lips, and then he drank. He drank and drank, and he repeated mantras to himself of the things his father said to him when he was young about men like <em> that </em> . Not men like him though, no. Not him. He could never. He wasn’t one of those men. He wasn’t one of those men because feeling that way about Cas would make him one of those men, and he <em> didn’t </em> feel that way about Cas. He wasn’t a fairy, a fruit, a pansy, a fa- he <em> wasn’t </em>. He could never have Cas, and he didn’t want the damn guy anyway so it’s not like it mattered. Dean drank, and he thought about how he could never have Cas, and how it didn’t matter that he could never have him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>-   <strong>now   </strong> -</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The telltale sound of wings fluttering.</p><p>Dean’s head shot up.</p><p>“Cas?”</p><p>“Hello, Dean.”</p><p>Without a second thought, Dean got up off the ground from where he was praying in what must be record time.</p><p>He launched himself at his angel, wrapped his hands around Cas’s face, and kissed him like he was dying for it. Dean has never kissed anyone like this before, with so much love, with so much yearning, pouring his heart and soul and being into it.</p><p> Before this, Dean had only ever kissed for its most basic purpose: for the feeling, and to get closer to the main event. But he didn’t kiss the angel because he was hoping to get into his pants, he kissed Cas because Cas was his everything, and had been for such a long time. Dean so dearly hoped he could say with this kiss all the words he kept locked inside his heart for the past twelve years.</p><p>The moment Dean’s lips connected to Cas’s, Cas let out a small yelp of surprise. He was certainly not expecting this, and he hadn’t had any time to process what was happening. Dean could feel the other man’s shock in his stiffness and gasp, but he supposes that’s to be expected when you kiss your best friend, whose romantic feelings they thought were unrequited, right upon reuniting. </p><p>After a moment, Cas’s brain had resolved its Server Error, so he grabbed Dean by the waist and tugged him impossibly closer, and kissed him back with a fervor that would give Dean a run for his money. </p><p>Cas kissed him like <em> he </em> instead was the one who needed to push all of his words of admiration into Dean, even though he already had, the day The Empty took him. Cas tugged on Dean’s bottom lip with his teeth and sighed when he felt Dean melt into him that slightest touch more. Dean parted his lips and Cas licked into him like he was attempting to <em> devour </em> the man. Cas had hardly any experience with kissing, but he still managed to do it with the enthusiasm of someone who’d made a career of making out.</p><p>After a few moments, Cas attempted to separate his lips from the other’s (though he fucking hated doing that, he’d rather do this forever but he needed some clarification) and let out a “<em> Dean-”. </em> It was a botched effort to ask <em> Where did this come from? Is this how you really feel? Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want me? </em></p><p>But before he had a chance to even begin asking, Dean mumbled “Shut up.” into his lips and carried on. So Cas figured, okay, don’t mind if I do.</p><p>The kiss wasn’t filthy, but it was certainly desperate. Not the desperation of knowing they don’t have much time, nor the desperation of wanting to tear each others’ clothes off, but the desperation of knowing they’ve waited so, <em> so </em> very long for this one thing and it’s finally here. They can finally have it, unapologetically, unabashedly, and in full color.</p><p>They hadn’t moved from their spot, standing together in the middle of Dean’s new slightly Pine-Sol scented living room. Cas ran his hands down Dean’s back. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck. Cas carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. Their lips parted in sync and their tongues pushed together, back and forth, they drank up each other and got high on the feeling of being intertwined. It was, no pun intended, heavenly.</p><p>And then, Dean started crying.</p><p>When Cas felt the other man’s tears hit his own cheeks he gently pulled away, concern etched into his eyebrows. “Dean? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”. In response, Dean let out a half-sob-half-laugh. “I don’t think I <em> can </em> be hurt up here, Cas. It’s Heaven.” Cas squinted his eyes, confused, brows still furrowed. “Then what’s the matter?”</p><p>“I love you too, Cas,” He gulped out, “I love you so fucking much it <em> hurts </em> , and I’m so sorry I never said it before, and I didn’t say it when you told me, I was so caught off guard and I was scared and…” Dean trails off, trying to find his words. He could tell from Cas’s eyes that he was trying to hide his shock and elation at hearing those words from the hunter. “Dean, Dean it’s okay,” says Cas, holding Dean in his arms and rubbing his back soothingly. He caresses the nape of Dean’s neck, and it makes him feel so cherished that it <em> hurts </em>. He’s looking at Dean with the same big sympathetic eyes he kept getting from Sam and then from Bobby, and it just didn’t feel right. Dean doesn’t deserve those eyes. “No, Cas, listen to me, okay? Just shut up-” Dean screwed his eyes shut hard, let out a shaky breath, opened them, and pointed a finger right at Cas’s stupid beautiful face.</p><p> “You’re going to shut up, and you’re going to listen.”</p><p>Cas looked back at him, a bit of surprise obvious on his face, then he nodded his OK at Dean.  Now it was Dean’s turn to subject someone else to big emotional eyes. Cas tried to unwrap himself from around Dean, thinking that was what he wanted, but Dean grabbed his arms and held them there and whispered “ <em> Stay.”. </em>So he did.</p><p>Cas was looking at him intently, and Dean could tell he was listening. He’s having a hard time meeting Cas’s eyes. Dean took a deep breath, because fuck, he’s never been good at this sort of stuff. But there are things he needs to say, things Cas needs to hear, things Dean needs to hear <em> himself </em>say.</p><p>Dean is dead. Cas is… well honestly right now Dean doesn’t know if Cas is technically dead or alive, because he didn’t have time to ask (there were more urgent matters at hand), but either way, it’s about time. Dean Winchester needs to talk about his motherfucking feelings.</p><p>“Cas… I love you too- <em> of course </em> I love you too.” He stared Cas right in the eyes, despite the difficulty, to make sure his sincerity was made clear, as well as his stubbornness to show how certain he was of his statement. He was still crying, but he pushed through it. “A-and like I said, when you told me, I didn’t say anything because I was in shock. There was so much going on… first people were disappearing, out of nowhere, and then Billie was trying to kill me, and then you… you fucking told me you made a damn <em> deal </em> with The Empty, and I know what happens when people make deals with… with <em> things </em> like that…” </p><p>Cas’s eyes were growing wet now as they bore into Dean’s. He hadn’t realized how much stress he must’ve been putting on Dean by hitting him with those words at such a time. He was absentmindedly stroking Dean’s back comfortingly, waiting for him to continue, still silent as he promised to be.</p><p>“And then you were telling me all these <em> things </em> , telling me how good of a person I am and I’m <em> not </em> , Cas, I’m just not. Or at least- dammit- at least that’s how <em> I </em>feel, I don’t feel like I’m all those things. And I just couldn’t take it.”. Cas looks like he’s holding back from telling Dean those sentiments all over again, just to prove a point and send the message deeper because Cas knew they were true. They were the truest words ever spoken.</p><p>“Then you told me you loved me. And I couldn’t… get myself to say anything. Because I knew-” Dean shut his eyes, a tremble and bated exhale on his lips. “I knew it meant goodbye.”</p><p>Cas looked at Dean like those few words almost broke him.</p><p>“It hadn’t hit me… until after you were gone… what you said. And really I just didn’t know if I could be sure about what you meant. About <em> how </em> you meant it. I didn’t think you had the- the equipment to love someone that way, much less <em> me </em>.”</p><p>Dean scrunched up his features at the last word, still having a hard time accepting that Cas could love him. Not just because he was a nearly-inconceivable cosmic being who’d lived hundreds of centuries, but because he was Cas. How could Dean possibly deserve to be loved by <em> him? </em></p><p>It wasn’t what Dean said about not being sure Cas could feel romantic love that particularly perturbed him, as he supposed it wasn’t an unfair assumption, but it was the fact that Dean didn’t feel he owed that love from him, didn’t feel he’d earned it, that hurt. Cas swallowed the thickness bubbling in his throat, his brows furrowed up in the middle. He still knew he wasn’t supposed to talk, so he shot Dean a look that he hoped conveyed the message: <em> Don’t say that. You deserve the world. </em></p><p>“If I’d have known before, if I hadn’t ignored all the signs, Cas I…” He trailed off.</p><p>“I’m just… I’m so sorry if I made you think I didn’t feel <em> anything </em> but the exact same way. Because I do. I’ve wanted you for so damn long Cas, but I told myself I didn’t, and I told myself I <em> couldn’t </em> . I told myself I couldn’t because- ‘cause that would make me <em> gay </em> . That I couldn’t because you didn’t feel the same, which I know isn’t true now. I just <em> kept telling myself </em> I couldn’t feel that way, for a million different reasons, but they were all just excuses. Excuses why I couldn’t be happy.</p><p>“I’m sorry I didn’t try to get you back. I didn’t know how to and I was terrified. I should’ve tried, I should’ve asked Jack to bring you back before he left. I wish I had a good reason for that but I just… can’t really explain. I was <em> scared </em>, Cas of everything.” He looked up, trying to keep the next bout of tears from sliding down his cheeks. “But… the bottom line is, I love you, and not like a brother, not like a friend or anything like that. I’m in love with you, Cas. I’m so, hopelessly, stupidly in love with you.”</p><p>Dean let out a giant shaky breath he didn’t realize he was holding. God, that was the most Dean’s talked about his feelings in probably his entire life. He’s exhausted. And incredibly relieved. (And, in love).</p><p>Dean wipes a tear. “Uhhhm. You can talk now, I think.”</p><p>And dammit, Cas is looking at Dean like he’s his entire world again.</p><p>“Dean…” Cas’s voice breaks through his own crying. “Thank you, so much for telling me all this.” Cas brings his left hand up to Dean’s face, cupping his cheek and wiping another stray teardrop. “I forgive you Dean, for all of it, I will <em> always </em>grant you my forgiveness.” Dean cries a broken sob and presses his face further into Cas’s hand, closing his eyes.</p><p>“And I’m sorry too,” Cas continues, “I’m sorry I put so much on your shoulders before I was taken by The Empty, and I’m sorry if there’s anything I’ve ever done to make you feel like I couldn’t love you.”</p><p>“Say it again.”</p><p>Cas’s brows furrow a bit, betraying his confusion.</p><p>“Uhh… I’m sorry?”</p><p>“No, the other thing.”</p><p>The other- oh. <em> Oh. </em></p><p>“I love you, Dean. I’ve always loved you. From the moment I was ordered to raise you from perdition and I put your soul, mind and body back together from the ground up. I know you, Dean, I know every inch of your soul and every molecule of your being because I touched them, in their raw state, and I love every single one of those parts of you.”</p><p>Cas grabs Dean’s waist again and presses their foreheads together, breathing each others’ air and words and cries. They share a breath now, their hearts beat in unison. They look into each others’ eyes, and they’re together as one.</p><p>“I was never supposed to feel, Dean, my very design contradicts it. I’m supposed to be an emotionless soldier, built to serve God and Him only, take His orders and ask no questions. I was made to be ruthless and cunning, and I was certainly never supposed to love. I think… I think I used to be that way. Until I met you. You made me feel, and Heaven, the <em> old </em> Heaven, noticed, and suddenly it wasn’t worth it to me anymore. Heaven wasn’t worth it, if I wasn’t supposed to feel. But you were worth it, Dean, you <em> are </em> worth it. You made me love.”</p><p>They’re sobbing, they have been for a while, but still, they kiss once again. They taste salty tears on their lips, and it’s not clear whose they are, but it doesn’t matter. The kiss is less fierce than before but just as loving, it’s slow and sweet and full of endearment. They’re no longer desperate to put their words into their kiss because now they’ve said them out loud, now they only need to <em> show </em> those words, show how much they meant them.</p><p>There’s a knock at the door.</p><p>“Dean?” they hear in Sam’s voice, “Anything happen?”. They separate their lips reluctantly, Cas raises his eyebrows as if to say <em> you gonna get that? </em>Dean replies with a dramatic eye-roll and sigh, clears his throat, then half-shouts “Gimme a moment!”. Cas chuckles.</p><p>“You know Cas, I haven’t been here long in terms of uh, Heaven time, maybe half a day? And I’ve already cried twice. I think I might be broken.” Cas looks at him, chuckles again, and says “I don’t think you <em> can </em> be broken up here, Dean. It’s Heaven.”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>After a few more minutes to make themselves look presentable and a little less like they’re been crying their hearts out, they head to the door before Sam leaves out of pure impatience. Before they head out, though, Dean looks at the angel to ask something that’s been on his mind.</p><p>“Hey uh, Cas?”</p><p>“Yes, my love?”</p><p>Okay, first of all, Dean did not know Cas was the type to use pet names. Second of all, Dean’s blushing and feels like crying again now.</p><p>“Ehem… you’ve been in Heaven for some time, right?”</p><p>“Yes, I have.”</p><p>“How did you get here?”</p><p>Cas looked at him with a half-smile. “Jack pulled me out of The Empty when he began rebuilding Heaven. It was a bit before you died in earthly time, but it was enough time up here to get everything in check. He said he would’ve pulled me out earlier but it was difficult, even for a god, and he had some other matters to attend to.”</p><p>Dean bit his lip absentmindedly in thought. “Huh,” he said. “Okay. Well, why didn’t you come find me as soon as you were out?”</p><p>Cas came closer to Dean, cupped his face once again, and planted a soft peck on the man’s lips.</p><p>“I was waiting on your call.”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Later, after Sam and Cas had reunited, the latter and Dean retired back to the house. The sun had long since gone down, and they were lying in bed on their sides, facing each other. Who would’ve thought Heaven had night time, by the way? Weird. Anyway, the two were going to sleep soon but were putting it off; they couldn’t get enough of one anothers’ company. One thing Dean had already noticed about Cas since they’d gotten together earlier that day was that he was always touching Dean, always wanting to keep a part of their bodies together, even in small ways. He would hold Dean’s hand, or caress his cheek, or place his hand at the small of his back.</p><p>Dean wasn’t used to this kind of physical affection at all, or <em> any </em> kind for that matter, so it kind of made him feel like he was going to explode, but in the best way possible. He was still too anxious to initiate the affection himself, but when Cas gave it to him, he melted into his touch.</p><p>Just as Dean finished that thought, Cas scooted closer to him on the bed and wrapped him up in his arms, so Dean did the same and tucked his head into his angel’s neck. Somewhere along the way, their legs found themselves tangled together.</p><p>“Cas?” Dean mumbled into his shoulder.</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“Are you gonna have to leave?”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>Dean untucked his head and met Cas’s eyes. “Like, are you going to have to go do angel duties and leave me here alone?”. Cas looked back at him like he was offended that the other man would even suggest he’d leave after such a monumental occurrence between them.</p><p>“Not if I don’t want to, no. Ever since Jack’s taken over, angels essentially have free will. We’re not obligated to do anything, and we can go wherever we want.” Dean let out a breath of relief. He should’ve figured that Jack would be a fair and just leader. Dean looked for any sense of doubt in Cas’s eyes. “And you don’t want to? Leave?”</p><p>“Of <em> course </em> not. What would make you think that?” Cas’s eyebrows tilted up in the middle, saddened that Dean would even think such a thing. “I am not leaving you, Dean, not now, not <em> ever </em>.”</p><p>“But Heaven is, well, forever, right?” asked Dean, doubtingly. “That is one of its attributes, yes,” Cas answered. “So you want to spend <em> forever </em> with me, Cas? With <em> me </em>? Are you sure?”. Cas retracted one of his arms from around Dean and used it to cup his face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. </p><p>“As long as you’ll have me, yes, I do.”</p><p>And once again, Dean felt like he was going to explode. Too many damn emotions.</p><p>Dean, he thinks, has expressed quite enough of his feelings today, so instead of saying anything back, he shows. He kisses Cas nice and slow, soft, warm, <em> loving </em>. Because he loves Cas. and somehow, Cas loves him back. </p><p>Dean may be dead, but he feels more alive now than ever before.</p><p>They stay tangled up in each other, and eventually, they’re close to sleep. The next morning, Dean will swear he’s never slept better in his life. But for now, Dean, muffled by his head in Cas’s shoulder and his half-asleep state, says:</p><p>“Say Cas… can you get married in Heaven?”<br/><br/></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my first fic so I'd really appreciate any feedback! :)</p><p>I started writing it the day after the finale premiered because it fucking SUCKED and I needed to give myself some closure. I don't think I've ever felt such an intense need to fix something. Hopefully this can give you some closure too! Dean and Cas are living it up in heaven right now, I promise.</p><p>oh btw, my tumblr is the same name as here</p><p>Title and previous notes from Good Times Bad Times by Led Zeppelin (as Dean would've wanted).</p></blockquote></div></div>
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